


Healing.

by everydreamday



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Accident, M/M, larry stylinson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-05-07
Packaged: 2018-06-02 14:41:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6570214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everydreamday/pseuds/everydreamday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis can't decide if its a blessing or a curse when he gets a phone call from the hospital about a certain green-eyed, curly-haired boy who he hasn't seen for three years. Because apparently the lanky git never changed his emergency contact information. He can't decide if its fate fulfilling its destiny or simply playing a cruel joke when circumstances dictate Harry move in with Louis for his recovery.<br/>All Louis knows is that it hurts, everything just really hurts. Three years ago Louis' life got turned upside down and then shaken and then shattered beyond repair, because he didn't just lose Harry when they broke up, he lost his best mates, lost his own family. He's been away from them all for so long and he doubts that any of them want to see him again.<br/>Everyone thought it was his fault. Everyone blamed him They all chose a side, and no one chose Louis'.<br/>So while things are awkward and tense and its all a little bit too much for him to handle, it might be that what they need is each other, Harry's broken body and Louis' broken spirit.<br/>And maybe, just maybe, they can heal together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Phonecall to the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis gets a phone call about his past.

  
The viscous rain pelting against the windows was the only sound to be heard throughout the house. If Louis had been awake then there would have been noise; music blaring through speakers, the tv shouting from its stand in the corner. But Louis was not awake. Louis had plunged into a comfortable sleep curled up on the sofa, the blanket that had been keeping him warm kicked off at some point.

Perhaps it was because it pierced the deafening silence, or because it startled Louis out of his dream, or maybe it really was some sort of foreshadowing, but when his mobile gave its shrilling cry Louis bolted up right, stomach twisted and breathing heavy. He banged his shin against the coffee table throwing a curse to the dark of the house, because seriously, who puts a coffee table there? The number was withheld.

"Hello?" It was not as polite as it should have been but it was ridiculously late,  he was sure he could feel a bruise already forming on his poor leg, that uneasiness still hadn't left his stomach and Louis was nearly never as polite as he should be.  
"I'm looking for Mr Louis Tomlinson?" If this was some salesman Louis would not be held responsible for throwing the phone out the window. He would tell Liam it was definitely the Salesman's fault. But Louis knew he was being ridiculous, it was too late for a coldcaller, and the voice on the other end was just too... solemn.

Salespeople always sounded too cheery on the phone, they had that faux-friendly tone, or at least until you told them you weren't interested.  
Louis may or may not have received a letter a couple of months ago about his exact choice of words used to express his lack of interest to a double glazing company.

This voice though, this was deep and warm, a natural reassurance, contradicted by the pace; slow and cautious. It was a voice that would be chosen to break bad news.  
"Speaking." And that uneasiness wasn't just settled in his stomach, it was rising up through his whole body.  
"Ah sorry to disturb you Mr Tomlinson. My name is Dr Leo Garper, I'm calling from St George's hospital."

Wait, what?

  
"We've had a young man admitted, a Mr Harry Styles, you are on his records as his emergency contact." Louis froze. He had spent the last three years trying to avoid that name. He knew he could never forget it, but he could damn well it ignore it. Change the subject if it came up, make a hasty exit if things got uncomfortable, bring an acquaintanceship to an end quickly if they knew the name. That name had caused him so much hurt, cost him everything he'd cared about.  
"There was an... incident. Mr Styles was hit by a speeding car. The police think the driver was drunk... They didn't stop to check him. He's unconscious." It didn't matter. None of the bitterness that had festered in Louis' mind mattered. There was only one thing racing through his mind as the doctor described Harry's condition in more detail. Harry

Harry.

Harry, Harry, Harry.

Louis couldn't see the fireplace in front of him, feel the cold stone. All he could see was a mass of earthy curls, feel warm, soft skin. He couldn't hear the doctor's words, only that ridiculous bark of laughter.

Harry.

Louis didn't remember driving to the hospital, didn't remember parking his car. Nothing until he was stood outside the room, only a door separating him from the boy who had stolen his heart, the boy who had crushed it. Louis hesitated with his hand on the door. Would Harry even want him here? He probably just to forgot to change his details after the break up. It doesn't matter, Louis told himself. He had to know Harry was going to be ok. Filling his lungs, hoping that would somehow fill him with confidence as well as oxygen, he pulled open the door and slipped through.

His eyes stared at the boy in the bed. He thought, hoped, it might just look like he was sleeping. But the whiteness of his face, minus the large, angry, red graze scraping across his left side, the way his body was rigid, screamed no. He didn't look like Harry. Harry was so full of warmth and love and life. This body, with its wires tying it to the terrifying machines, it didn't look like life. It looked de...  Don't you dare! He screamed at himself internally. Don't you fucking dare. He stepped forward slowly, away from those disgusting thoughts and waited for someone to jump out and kick him out of the small room as he crawled towards the bed.

Somewhere in the back of his mind a whispered voice asked if it was appropriate to touch Harry, what made Louis so sure Harry wouldn't mind? It wasn't loud enough to stop him though. So Louis ignored the pressing guilt of invading someone's personal space, and the hypocrisy of it- seeing as Louis would go off his nut if someone invaded his, and knelt down beside Harry, because he just needed to touch Harry, hesitating only a little before resting his hand on top of a much larger, much more tanned one.  
"Well I never thought this was on the table for our reunion." Louis let out weakly. Because this situation was as hard as hell without all the heavy history, and humour was his defence after sass. He didn't feel very sassy right now.

"Hazza." He breathed, brushing tangled curls off of Harry's face, gone past caring about boundries because Harry was still warm and his chest was rising and falling gently. Louis kept his hand sifting through that brown mane because he knew Harry loved it, the guy would pur, literally pur, in delight.

Louis couldn't help but compare the image, the memory, of Harry sprawled out on the sofa, tilting his head back, sighing out any stresses of the day, leaning into Louis' touch, one eye peeking open to watch Louis as Louis wove fingers through soft brown waves, completely content. Compare it to the motionless body laying in front of him. Louis never stopped caressing Harry's hair as he muttered words, broken and hoarse.  
"You can't leave me ok? You never have to see me again, never hear me or think of me again. But you can't leave. You can't babe. You can't leave me."

 

  
....................................................................

  
  
Louis could feel the doctor hesitating at the door. They'd spent the better part two hours talking about Harry, the man having led Louis over to the tiny two-seat sofa in the corner of the room. His voice washed over Louis, calming and soothing, and even though Louis didn't feel the affects of the doctor's efforts, he appreciated the attempt.  
He'd explained everything, and then everything again when he realised Louis hadn't taken in a single word. His voice was just as patient, just as comforting. But all Louis had really understood was _more tests_ and _we'll know more when he wakes up_. When, Louis repeated to himself over and over again, when- not if.

"It might be a good idea to phone someone. Its better than being on your own." Louis didn't know how to respond to that; he was used to being on his own, he wasn't- Harry was here. And then the doctor unwittingly reminded Louis of something else with his advice. Harry wasn't on his own. Harry had family, friends, loved ones. They had once loved Louis too. 

It was just for a moment, a fleeting, ridiculous moment, that Louis thought maybe he shouldn't tell anyone. Harry could make that decision once he'd woken up. They'd have a chance to see one another privately. Of course Louis never even considered it, not really. Because this wasn't about him. And when Harry woke up... Well he'd want his family with him.

So Louis pushed the guilt aside, blaming it on his brain being overwhelmed and pulled out his phone from his jean pocket, grateful and resentful it was there, he hadn't been entirely sure he'd pocketed it after hanging up all those hours ago.Louis stared at the blank screen. He couldn't remember their numbers. He could only think of one. Louis thought of all the people he had cut out of his life three years ago. Harry was number one, Zayn Malik was number two. Louis looked at Harry.

He knew it wasn't even an option, and although the dread threatened to make him spew his guts all over the floor, he knew it was the right thing to do. So, he typed in the number that belonged to the boy he'd known since he was six yeard old, the boy that had been his best friend for just as long.  
"Don't pick up. Don't pick up." Louis whispered to himself before giving his brain a huge scolding. This wasn't about him. It was about Harry. Harry would want Zayn there.

"Hello?" A sleepy voice mumbled.  
"Don't hang up." Louis blurted, because despite his nerves and not having heard that voice in three years, he knew Zayn very well.  
"What the fuck do you think you..." There was no sleepiness to it now. Louis tried not to wince at the coldness it held.

"It's Harry Zayn." There was a pause. Louis tired not to think about how he would be seeing Zayn very shortly. He tried not to think about how he was staring at Harry, and memories full  of love flickered through his mind, but they were tainted with that same heart-wrenching pain.

This. Was. Not. About. Him.

"Something... something's happened to him."


	2. It's not the past anymore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, first of all. People actually fucking read it. Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!  
> Secondly, sorry for not updating sooner. Life. Drama. Shit comes up, you know?  
> Anyway here is Chapter Two, and I promise I won't leave it as long for the next chapter, already started it!  
> Hope you enjoy, if not then please feel free to give it a good bashing, will help me out in the long run!  
> But I do hope you enjoy.

“ _Zayn?” Louis called softly through the door. He bit his lip, hesitant. He didn't know whether he should go in or not. His hand hovered on the handle. Louis always wanted to be alone when he was sad but... that was different. That was more than sad. He just wanted to let Zayn know he wasn't alone._

 

“ _I'm coming in alright? I just want to make sure you're ok, and then I'll go if you want.” He said awkwardly, not wanting to just barge in. He'd known Zayn since he was six years old, and this was the first time he'd been unsure of how Zayn would react. He didn't like it. He pushed the door open a crack and slipped through, shutting it behind him, as though he were preventing the world from following, it was just him, just Louis._

 

“ _Zayn?” His best friend wasn't on the bed or sitting at the desk. But he could hear sobbing. He felt a twist in his stomach. Zayn hardly ever cried. Louis took a deep breath, he could get mad later. He needed to be calm for Zayn and then he could go crazy at whoever it was that was making Zayn upset. He crossed the room and went through another door that led to the bathroom._

 

_Zayn was leaning against the sink, knuckles turning white from his grip, shoulders heaving as he let out broken, choked breaths. His large caramel eyes stared back at Louis in the mirror he'd been searching his reflection in. Louis could see the hurt, the fear, glistening there, just as real as the tears that were spilling over. Louis had never seen Zayn scared. He'd seen Zayn nervous, when Louis went into quiet mode, and anxious like on their first day of secondary school._

 

_But never frightened. It wasn't right, fear just didn't belong in Zayn's eyes._

“ _Oh Zaynie.” Louis walked up behind him, wrapping his arms around Zayn. The other boy tried to shrug him off but Louis just hugged him tighter, resting his cheek against Zayn's back._

“ _It's ok.”_

 

“ _NO ITS NOT!” Zayn yelled, spinning round, making Louis stumble backwards. They were both shocked at the outburst. Louis was always the one to yell and screech until he literally had no voice left. And then he would still scream some more. Zayn seethed silently, everything swirl through his body until his blood would boil until slowly, eventually the rage dispersed._

“ _I... I didn't... I...” Louis watched fresh tears gather._

“ _Come on.” He held out his hand. Zayn looked at it. Louis rolled his eyes, he wasn't usually sensitive but he really was trying- he he guessed he could have one or two minor slip-ups. He grabbed Zayn's hand, tugging on it._

“ _Come on.” Louis sighed, tugging again in an attempt to make Zayn follow him. He didn't. Louis shrugged and let go of Zayn's hand before walking back into the bedroom._

 

“ _What are you doing?” Louis wondered if Zayn thought he was being weird again, all Zayn could see was Louis' bum wiggling a little bit as he crawled under the bed. It might be weird, but it was normal for Louis._

“ _Louis. What are you...”_

“ _Come on!” Louis voice rang with confidence, like he knew what he was doing._

 

_And he kind of did. He just hadn't done it with anyone else. He popped his head out from underneath the bed, holding up the bed sheet as invitation for Zayn to follow. Frowning slightly, he watched Zayn lie on his tummy and wriggle in after a moment. At least curiosity had distracted Zayn, his breathing was even now. Louis waited until Zayn was all the way in before dropping the sheet, blocking out the light and curling into a ball._

 

“ _This... this exists out of time and space. So anything that's said or, or felt... it stays here. It doesn't exist in the world. Not until you're ready to take it out there with you.” Louis frowned, trying to think of how he could explain it better. How the darkness silenced his own voice that whispered constantly in the back of his mind, how he could stretch his body and touch every side that enclosed him, that the small space made him feel a little bit calmer when the world outside was so overwhelming._

“ _Its stupid Lou.”_

“ _It isn't!” Louis snapped._

 

“ _It might be weird or cheesy but its not stupid.” Louis insisted, even he could hear the anger in his voice. He was sharing with Zayn something really important to him. He was scared about doing it, he'd never shared it with anyone, not even his sisters. And Zayn had just dismissed it without a second thought._

 

_Calm down, he told himself. Its not about him. This is about Zayn._

 

“ _It makes me feel better.” He added softer, a kind of amends._

“ _This... this is what you do in quiet-mode?” Zayn asked just as soft. Louis hoped Zayn could see him nodding._

“ _I'm sorry.” Even though this was about Zayn he was kind enough to still consider Louis' feelings. Louis loved that about Zayn._

“ _It's ok.”_

 

“ _You're not cross?” And they both knew that was translation for why aren't you cross. Usually Zayn helped Louis calm down from his defensiveness. It was rare for him to be on the receiving end. Louis was very good at being defensive; snapping back, arguing, insulting... It often got him in trouble. Zayn was always right there beside him so he wouldn't have to be in trouble alone._

 

“ _You're upset. You get a free pass.” Silence lingered for a little while, and just as Louis was beginning to wonder if he should maybe prompt Zayn to talk, he heard a deep breath being sucked in._

“ _Do you know what happened?”_

 

“ _I saw you leave.” Louis remembered Zayn coming out of the front building to their school with a bunch of people in their year. They were all chatting and laughing. And then Zayn said something. Louis, waiting at the gate for him, had been too far away to hear anything, but after Zayn had spoken they just stared._

 

_Everyone was shocked, Zayn included. Zayn the most. Then one guy, Callum or Calvin or Cullen or something, lifted a finger, pointing it at a wide-eyed, panicking Zayn and laughed. More than a few people joined in, a couple scrunched their faces up in disgust. Zayn ducked his head down and hurried ahead of them._

 

_He walked straight passed Louis, Louis didn't think Zayn had even seen him or heard him as he called out to him. He was though the gate, turned onto the road. And was gone. He'd just bolted. Louis heard though. Heard the group, still back a bit, Calvin bellowing out poof and faggot as loud as he could._

 

“ _We were talking about which celebrities we would shag. Everyone was shouting out like Christina Ag or Cheryl Cole or Shakira. I said Leonardo Decaprio. It just slipped out. And then they stared. And then they laughed. They called me.. called me...” Zayn broke off, and although Louis couldn't see it, he could barely see Zayn's outline, he knew Zayn's face was crumpling._

 

“ _They're a bunch of dicks.” Louis growled, feeling that anger beginning to ignite again as the faces of those scumbags flashed through his face._

“ _Don't call them that.” Zayn said it so quietly, Louis wondered if he'd heard right._

“ _I.. I quite like dicks.”_

“ _Fine. They're a bunch of cunts then.”_

“ _Louis!” Zayn hissed, giggling. Louis could hear the relief in Zayn's voice._

 

_Louis would be pissed off that Zayn would think so little of him to even imagine he'd react badly to it, if, Louis didn't know exactly what Zayn was feeling._

“ _You got what I meant, right?”_

“ _Yes Zayn. And seeing how you're being honest with me... Just for the record I like dicks too.” He heard Zayn let out a disbelieving laugh._

“ _More than like, actually. Very fond of them. Adore them.” They laughed quietly. They really were meant to be best friends._

“ _What if... What if people, like our parents flip out?” Zayn whispered._

“ _Then they can fuck off.”_

“ _Louis.”_

 

“ _No I'm serious. If someone doesn't like me because I'm attracted to the male gender, then they can fuck right off. I don't care who they are. I have enough shit without worrying about other people validating me. If they can't accept me, that's their problem.” Louis thought for a moment if the reason this didn't make him as nervous as it did Zayn was because he had so many insecurities and self-doubts and other shit, he just simply didn't have enough room to care. He hoped it was more than that._

 

“ _And we'll always have each other. You and me. If everyone kicks us to the curb, if our families disown us... if there is a God and he hurls lightening bolts down at us... You have me. And you won't ever get rid, you hear? You're stuck with me for good. Whether you like it or not Zaynie.” He felt a hand fumble against his face, patting his eye and nose before resting on his cheek._

 

“ _I know.” Louis' heart lifted at that. He wasn't good at much, but he always hoped he was a good friend. He felt his cheeks lift into one of his hardly-existing, dopey, ridiculous grins. It froze when he felt something smack against his head._

 

_And then his lips._

 

_And. Oh God._

 

_Zayn was kissing him. Louis puckered out his lips a little bit, giving Zayn what he needed. And then Zayn pulled back, silence wafting in between them._

“ _That was... that was disgusting, wasn't it?” Zayn strained out after a moment._

 

“ _I'm sure you have a splendid dick Zaynie, but I'm afraid I will only ever love it in the platonic sense.” There was a pause for a moment and then they burst out laughing. After wiping away each others tears, which just ended up with letting even more flowing- the lack of light causing poked eyes, Zayn squirmed out, Louis following._

 

_Once they were out from under the bed and standing in the soft grey and blue of Zayn's room Louis felt caramel eyes on him. He could read Zayn's thought process. Zayn was trying to figure out if it was ok to speak about it now, in the real world. Louis smiled encouragingly._

“ _So... David Beckham or Leonardo Dicaprio?”_

 

“ _Pfft Freddie Flintoff!” Louis answered without a drop of hesitation or uncertainty. Zayn just laughed at his best friend, unpredictable as ever. Louis was about to ask Zayn the same question when Zayn flung himself at him._

 

_Zayn pulled back for a moment._

“ _Thank you.” Louis searched those familiar eyes. There was no fear. He pulled Zayn back in and clung to him tightly. And at thirteen years old Louis vowed to himself he would wash away the fear he had seen in Zayn's eyes. Whenever it was there. Every single time Zayn would ever feel afraid Louis swore to himself he would be there. He would always be there._

 

Louis hadn't known what to expect from Zayn. A part of him had been hoping Zayn would forgive him, or at least put his grudge on pause, but he had known better than to expect it. So when Zayn burst through the door forty minutes later and laid his blazing caramel eyes on Louis, Louis scolded himself for being so foolish. And then Zayn was rushing over to Harry, stroking his cheek, kissing his forehead.

 

“I told you babes, you gotta stop making me worry. I'm gonna get wrinkles.” He choked out, because after being friends with Louis for so many years using humour as a coping mechanism had rubbed off on him.

“You can go now.” He hadn't taken his eyes off Harry. Louis never thought he'd be on the receiving end of that icy stare, that freezing, terrifying growl. It hurt much more than he thought it would.

 

“If I leave they won't tell you anything. They're not allowed, hospital policy.” Louis said gently.

“He'll be awake soon, then he'll let me hear. We don't need you. Get out. And what the fuck do you know about hospital policy?” Louis was trying to not to take it personally but he was a wreck having to see everyone from his past- all the people he'd be seeing again, the ones he'd spent the last three years trying to forget, he was nervous about Harry for a million reasons, he didn't even know where to start with Zayn and it felt really fucking personal.

 

He wanted to tell Zayn to get his head out of his arse. Louis knew quite a bit about hospital policy thank you, it came up quite regularly with his job. But words for the first time, froze on his lips. Zayn wouldn't know that Louis had to deal with hospitals and doctors constantly because Zayn didn't know what Louis done for work. Louis knew Zayn was too angry to be thinking logically, so he tried to do it for them.

 

He knew Zayn. Zayn didn't do confrontation. He always had an air of bored indifference he always gave the impression of not caring enough to be confrontational. Louis knew better. He folded his arms, staring straight at Zayn.

“I'm not leaving.” Zayn shook his head scoffing.

 

“Not until he tells me too.” Louis said it more to himself than Zayn. He didn't know which he dreaded more, seeing Harry again or when Harry was going to kick him out. Zayn sat down, drawing a chair up to Harry, Louis watched him give an offending glare to the machines on the other side of Harry, the ones that beeped every few minutes before whispering words of comfort to the curly haired boy. Louis watched for a moment, wanting to share in the hatred of those obscene metal boxes that were helping Harry, to listen in on those private whispers, knowing that Zayn was comforting himself just as much as he was Harry. Hell Louis wanted to comfort Zayn. He wanted to embrace Zayn as tightly as he had when they were thirteen.

 

But it wasn't what Zayn needed. Zayn needed the time to brew his emotions, to let the anger flow through him until it was no longer strong enough to affect him.

“I'm gonna go get a drink. Do you want anything?” Louis breathed out slowly, refusing to rise to the bait. Zayn could ignore him. That was fine.

 

It wasn't fine. After Louis had quietly crept out of the room he let in the hurt. It hurt just as much as it would have done if Zayn had ignored him when they were ten or fifteen or twenty. What really hurt though, was that Zayn had never ignored him. Not when Louis had gotten them in trouble for skipping in year 11, not when Louis had met Zayn's friend from next door and had been so jealous and rude he'd made the other boy cry and fall out with Zayn. Not that one time when Louis, panicked and anxious and not being able to think, had punched Zayn in the face when Zayn told him to calm the fuck down.

 

Louis felt sadness and longing squeezing his heart as he walked to the canteen. As he waited for his order he wondered how long he'd be able to pull this off for, putting everyone else first. It wasn't that Louis was selfish, he wasn't. He was entirely dedicated to the people he loved, utterly loyal, would do anything for them.

 

That's what Zayn always told him. Its just... Louis lost it. Quite a lot. He was never one to make the logical decision. He'd always go based on how he was feeling, even if he knew it was wrong, and that tended to end badly. But nobody else was doing it. So Louis would try. For Zayn, for Harry. He could cry on his way home, he could fall apart in his Sanctuary, but he would try to keep it together for everyone.

 

It was his turn to be reliable.

 

Louis placed the black coffee with three and a half sugars on the bedside table. He returned to his place on the sofa, blowing on his tea in the stupid hope it would cool down quicker. He repeated to himself what he'd decided in the canteen. He would be the reliable one. He would put emotions aside. Just this one time he wouldn't let them dictate his life.

 

“Should we phone his Mum? Or Gemma?”

“They're on holiday. They come back Monday. No point in worrying them when they're halfway around the world and wouldn't be able to get here any quicker. May as well let them have a few more hours of ignorant bliss.” Louis nodded and curled up, tucking his feet in between the crack in the cushions and wrapping his arms around his knees.

“Its what Harry would want.”

“He's always thinking of them.”

“This isn't the past anymore.”

 

It wasn't what he said as such, although that cut deep; it was he way he said it, the look on his face when he said it, so full of pure disgust, that knocked all the breath out of Louis' that made his eyes burn with tears he refused to shed. They didn't say anything after that. Zayn carried on his soothing mutterings to Harry, Louis becoming invisible on the ugly sofa.

 

Louis knew it wasn't the past. He knew he had no right to go down memory lane, that Zayn definitely had no intention of visiting any moments in their history. He had no right to act like he knew either of them anymore. It was just hard not to. He hadn't seen anyone in three years, but he still couldn't think of them in past tense.

 

His relationship with them, with Zayn and Harry especially, was always supposed to have been forever. It wasn't supposed to be like this. But it was. Louis had to deal. He couldn't get hurt every time Zayn lashed out at him, knowing Zayn was very aware of how he was making Louis feel. Louis would never survive. He'd be no good to anyone. So he sat, biting his tongue, letting the voice that sounded just like his own tell him he deserved to be invisible. He deserved to be nothing to them.

 

Seven hours. Seven more hours of an awkward, heavy silence. Nine hours of tense atmosphere and Louis willing himself to keep breathing, to not freak out, before Harry stirred. He let out an odd sort of groan before opening his eyes halfway, only to close them again.

 

“Harry? Oh my god. Babes!” Zayn pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Ugh. Was I drinking last night? I feel like shit. My head is really foggy.” His words came out slow, well slower than usual, Louis watched as his face scrunched up in discomfort. He still wasn't awake properly.

“Seriously. My head's pounding. I feel … I don't feel right.”

“Harry you... I...”

 

“You need to be specific Harry. What doesn't feel right?” Louis came forward, leaving the ugly sofa. Harry's eyes widened and it took him a moment to focus on Louis. Louis watched Harry's face it as it grew more aware.

“Lou...” Harry breathed. Louis couldn't tell if the guy wanted to cry or grin. Probably both.

 

“What are you doing here?” Louis saw the moment Harry realised he wasn't in his own home. He looked down at the bed he was in, at the wires attaching him to those murmuring machines.

“Where... where am I?” Harry looked between them, his brain waking up enough to process things. Like the fact Louis was even here. Like he was in hospital.

“I can't...” Harry trailed off, the little colour he had drained from his cheeks. Louis watched his face. Watched as thick brown eyebrows went from being knitted together in confusion to lifting up, eyes widened in horror. He'd always been able to read Harry and he darted forward to restrain him before Harry could fully sit up and hurt himself in his rising panic. Louis' training kicked in.

 

“You shouldn't move too much until the Doctor's seen you.”

“No. I can't... I don't understa... Let me see. I need to see!” Harry cried. Louis lifted his arms but hovered close as Harry scrambled up, struggling to sit up right. Louis stood silent as Harry scrunched up the duvet he'd been tucked under, throwing it back to reveal his legs. He stared down at them in disbelief, as though he wasn't expecting them to be there.

 

“I can't feel my legs. Lou why can't I feel my legs?” Louis would have given anything to have an answer, to be able to tell the petrified face staring up at him that it was going to be ok. But he wouldn't do that. He wouldn't give harry a sense of false hope.

“I'll go get the Doctor.”

“No!” Harry lunged for his arm, clinging to it. Louis sunk on to the edge of the bed and wrapped his arms around Harry.

“I'll go.” zayn said quietly. Harry nodded, moving his face away from Louis' chest to mouth a thank you.

  
“Lou whats wrong with me?” Harry whispered.

“I don't know babe.” Louis had to do something. He put a hand underneath Harry's chin, lifting it so Harry would meet his gaze.

“But I do know that whatever it is, whatever happens, you will get through it. Because you are an amazing person and you're strong. You're so, so strong Harry.”

 

“How can you say that?” Harry asked, searching his face. Louis knew he was thinking about their past, but he didn't think either of them were ready to handle that subject just yet.

 

“Because its true. I know you Haz. You were there for your mum, you were her rock before she found your stepdad. When she married him. You put up with me for goodness knows how long. You are the strongest person I have ever met. You'll get through this. And I'll help you.” He could see the reservation in Harry's green eyes, the argument he was having with himself.

 

“You promise?”

“I promise.” Louis answered truthfully. He'd already sworn to himself he wouldn't let himsef get in the way, he'd do whatever it takes to help Harry.

“You mean it? You won't leave?”

“I mean it. I won't leave.” Harry must've found what he was looking for because Louis saw the relief wash over him. For a moment his muscles relaxed and he was calm.

 

Then he remembered the situation. Louis had his arms around Harry again. He didn't offer meaningless words of comfort and reassurance. He wouldn't lie like that. He knew Harry needed to get this out now, that he wouldn't want anyone else seeing him this devastated.

 

They waited for the doctor, waited for the moment where maybe Harry's life would change for ever. As Louis felt Harry's tears seep into his shirt, felt Harry's body heave in his arms from the strangled breathing he recited two words over and over in his head. And he let himself pour everything he had into them and what they meant. I promise.

 

I promise.

 

 


End file.
